On The Death Of Philip Stein

Somewhat obscured among the wash of gloomy New York jazz news early this week is the passing of one Philip Stein. He was a small-time record producer and collector, and a long-time jazz fan; but as this Gray Lady obituary reads, he was also a serious visual artist responsible for 1) painting the oddly futurist mural at the back of the Village Vanguard 2) being Vanguard impresario Lorraine Gordon's brother. Quote:

On the back-wall mural at the Village Vanguard, the famous jazz club in Greenwich Village, a primordial man and woman burst from a kaleidoscopic background of brightly colored geometric forms. For more than 40 years musicians have gazed, perhaps with some puzzlement, at this visionary artwork, suggestive of birth, creative dynamism and human aspiration. Patrons seated on bar stools at the back of the club have come to think of the big, curved mural as a visual counterpart to the cascading notes drifting toward them from the stage.

Philip Stein, the artist who created the mural, and whose sister, Lorraine Gordon, runs the club, died at his home in Manhattan on April 27. Mr. Stein, a onetime assistant to the great Mexican muralist David Alfaro Siqueiros, was 90. From Philip Stein, Muralist Who Adorned Village Vanguard Jazz Club, Dies at 90 [New York Times]

Perhaps those who have never sat at the back by the bar (or have never even peregrinated to the Vanguard) haven't noticed the mural. Even our ace photographer for the Live At The Village Vanguard concert series has barely documented the art on the wall opposite the stage in nearly 20 shows since this time last year. This partial shot featuring Sandro Tomasi, rehearsing for a Guillermo Klein hit, is all we have in house (there's a better photo in the article, though).

Trombonist Sandro Tomasi. Photo Credit: John Rogers

It's not just the loss of the artist that jazz fans should mourn, though.

 

After all, drummer and frequent Vanguard performer Kenny Washington had never quite known what the admittedly-enigmatic artwork represented; in fact, Gordon didn't sound exactly sure herself. It is almost as important to notice that Stein was a living link to different era of jazz appreciation and institutional memory:

Mr. Stein was born in Newark and developed a keen interest in painting and jazz while still quite young. He and Lorraine would head to the city's black neighborhoods and knock on doors, offering a quarter for jazz records. They also organized a group of neighborhood jazz buffs into the Hot Club of Newark. Each member accepted a research assignment and, when the club gathered for meetings, delivered a talk on, say, Ma Rainey while spinning records.

For someone who grew up musically on the Web as I did, the thought that fandom required such incredibly vocal participation boggles the mind. There are many historical factors which hinder this comparison, granted, but a point stands somewhere in this: could you today imagine a group of white, presumably Jewish kids from an Atlanta suburb traveling into Kirkwood to knock on strangers' doors asking, "Yo, do anyone got that new Young Jeezy mixtape?" All that business today — the file-distribution, the gathering and distribution of information, the marketing, even the listening itself — is transacted these days over the personally-customized Internet.

Not that there aren't obvious tremendous benefits to our technological interventions into music appreciation — it's keeping this one writer employed, at least. But as Allen Toussaint takes the Vanguard stage tonight, it's worth noting that Philip Stein didn't just stand for aesthetic beauty in the world of jazz; he came from a jazz culture which actively sought and embraced free, interpersonal, public dialogue in knowing more about itself. I suppose that's what, in a much different age and medium, A Blog Supreme is after too.

Much more on jazz art and photography to come in coming weeks and months.